a few more hours
by shadows and sunshine
Summary: They've never been ones to do things traditionally...even on the night before their wedding.' The classic story of boy-meets-girl, with a few twists. -oneshot-


Here's yet another challenge fic from the HPFC forum. This one was based off different songs from musicals. I got "Get Me to the Church on Time." It was amazingly fun.

xxx

_a few more hours_

_Prompt: Get Me to the Church on Time from My Fair Lady_

They've never been ones to do things traditionally.

Limbs tangled together, clothes ripped off and torn aside—this is a scene for the night after the wedding, not before. Girl meets boy, boy falls for girl, girl falls for boy, they get married, have sex and the resulting babies.

Not in this case.

"You're not supposed to see me until the wedding," girl says to boy breathlessly, her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Well, traditionally~" boy pauses to run his hand down the edge of her face, "you should still be a virgin, but we all know that isn't the case."

Girl pauses to wrench her wrist from beneath boy's thigh and give him a sharp smack to the side of his head.

"You should be glad you _are _getting married tomorrow," says girl, and it's true. She could have so easily spurned his advances, walked away when he sauntered towards her, turned aside when he tried to kiss her. But when she tries to imagine her life any differently, she can't.

"Because you're so evasive," he murmurs against her throat. "Thousands of boys lusting after you, were there?"

She pauses to catch her breath. "Millions," she corrects him, her voice catching in her throat as his mouth trails down further.

He chuckles, and a shiver runs through her body.

He really shouldn't be having this effect on her, she reasons. She's been with plenty of men—not millions or thousands or even hundreds, but still, plenty—and none of have ever made her heart melt as if it were molten magma, or her stomach explode as if thousands of butterflies were fluttering inside.

"You're a dirty liar."

She twists his face towards hers and kisses him deeply, her lips leaving spots of heat where they run along his face.

She really needn't try so hard, he thinks. He would be satisfied to just lie beside her, to play with her fingers and the ring on her left hand, to watch her chest rise and fall as she sleeps. He would be perfectly contented to just sit back and _stare._

She needn't try so hard, but she does, because they're both equal participants in their relationship. True, she's more dignified and he's too full of himself and sometimes the way he kisses is too rough, but—

Girl leans back, resting her cheek against his shoulder, burying her face into it.

"Have I told you I love you yet?"

"No," he answers. "A minor detail, I suppose."

"Very minor." She pauses for a moment. "Well, I do."

"I know." He kisses her forehead and then moves down to her lips, grazing against her cheek and then to her throat—

"And you?" she demands, breaking away from him.

He stares down at her. "Yes, I love you. You have _no _idea."

And maybe it's because she's a bit of a sucker for tradition, but, girl thinks, this isn't the way it's supposed to go. Shouldn't the "Iloveyous" come much longer before the "Idos"? And shouldn't he be out having his bachelor party now, not stretched out beside her? And shouldn't—

But it doesn't matter, because the "Iloveyous" are there, and tomorrow the "Idos" will be, too. And as long as they come, who cares when, right?

"Can we do just one thing traditionally?" she asks.

"There's not much traditional about us," he says, raising his eyebrows.

"Just one thing."

He blinks and waits.

"This may seem like a minor detail to you, but~"

"What? Just spit it out."

"Just…just get me to the church on time."

He chuckles and leans down to kiss her. "Of course." She sighs, relieved, and kisses him back, deeply and softly. "But really, will it matter if we're just a little late…?" he begins.

"Of course it will!" she says, breaking away from him, halfway between laughs and real exasperation. But inside, her nostalgia and sense for tradition is breaking away, and she thinks, as Draco pulls his wife-to-be towards him, _maybe we'll be late and maybe we won't, but who needs marriage when you could have all this anyway?_

And for once, the uncertainty doesn't bother Astoria a bit. They never have been ones to do things traditionally.

xxx

That was fun. This is the first Draco/Astoria fic I've written; hopefully I've captured their relationship realistically. And even if I didn't, it was a lot of fun, so review please!


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